Philadelphia, Earth

The gym fans worked overtime while hundreds of people on the bleachers stood on tiptoe. There was a storm predicted this weekend, but inside the school’s gym, it was summer and smelled of hot dogs. Cued by the screaming cheerleaders behind her, Bekka looked up from her score sheet to track Jamie Reynolds.

The new point guard’s shirt emphasized his broad shoulders and chest muscles. Bekka had a few classes with him and could time his arrival to her drop in grades. She tied her ponytail higher, trying to keep her neck cool.

The gym was hot, but all week she’d been having these strange hot flashes. She laughed to herself. Eighteen and menopause, coming right up.

Refocusing, she saw that Saint Lucille’s was down by ten points in the second half. Six minutes left to play. Bouncing in her chair, she tried to see around the referee.

Yes, two more points! She made a tally for their team’s point-guard, Wyatt. They were so close to winning, if only…she grinned as Jamie stole the ball, again. He drove back towards the net. Almost tied!

Suddenly, the other team’s player cut inside, tripping Jamie from behind. He hit the ground, face slamming against the court as he slid. The crowd inhaled sharply. Before the whistle and before Bekka could react, he was back up, inches from the opposing player’s face, fists clenched.

Screams erupted from every corner. The crowd was on their feet, boos and curses flying. At least no one had thrown anything yet.

“Jamie!” someone yelled beside her.

Bekka recognized Elisabeth, Jamie’s sister.“You’ll get the foul. Calm down!” Elisabeth yelled.

Jamie turned towards his sister. The referee stepped between the boys, forcing them back. Players herded their teammates away, putting distance between the potential fighters. When her brother moved, Elisabeth sat back down, flipping her ponytail back across her shoulder.

Twins, Bekka sighed. How two people could so win the genetic lottery, she just didn’t know. She was nothing like them. Tiny, short and uncoordinated, she’d barely survived gym class. It just wasn't fair.

Jamie was setting up at the free-throw line to calls of “miss it” and “you suck” from the opposing team’s fans. His expression didn’t change. Bekka thought it had to be difficult to listen to all that abuse.

The ball bounced and spun. The crowd waited expectantly. Bending his knees, Jamie cocked his arm gracefully, extended the other and let the shot go. Whoosh!

Bekka clapped as the other team brought the ball in. Focused on keeping score, she made it through the last few minutes of the game. Soon, it was all tied up. Gripping the table, Bekka stood up and cheered as Wyatt, almost at the buzzer, hit the last shot.

They’d won! As tall as Jamie, he gave her a wink and jogged off the court. He had his hair in cornrows. Bekka missed his big hair. Everyone had know who he was. Headed for the locker room, he mimed eating from a plate. She laughed and mouthed, “I know,” across the crowd. Apparently, he hadn’t forgotten their bet. She didn’t mind losing. Her grandmother would do the baking.

She brushed the eraser waste off her scorebook, grabbed her things and moved to the stands. This was her favorite part of the night. Everyone left and she had the court to herself. Looking up, she saw a man in an expensive looking suit eyeing her from beside the Trustees corner. The Inquirer’s reporter would be over in a moment to talk stats.

Working quickly, she totaled up the shots, rebounds and points for each player. Her mental math was good, but she ran the numbers again to be sure.

“You’re Bekka?” the man asked, stopping in front of her. His expression was serious, eyebrows drawn down in a V.

“Umm, yeah,” she answered. Most reporters seemed bored covering a high school basketball game. This guy seemed a little intense.

“Good,” he answered, stepping closer.

Bekka checked the distance between their bodies. Yeah, a little too close. She backed up. “Um, I...,” she said as her jeans slid along the bleachers.

He pulled out a notebook and sat beside her. Right beside her.

She looked at him.

He had tense cheek muscles and blotchy skin. “You’re from the Inquirer?” she asked. Maybe he was nervous about filling in.

“Yes,” he answered, offering her his hand.

She ignored the gesture. “I’m the team manager.”

“Ok. So, what’re the numbers?”

She just needed tell him what he wanted to know. Then she could get out of here.

He must have taken her silence for acquiescence because he smiled. It looked strange on his face, like he was out of practice. He breathed deeply, leaning in as he peered at her book.

She scooted to the side and rattled off the numbers. She didn’t need her notes, so she watched the crowd instead. Many of the people were familiar. There was a group of girls from her English class, probably off to someone’s house for an after party. A smaller group of boys followed in their wake. The game ball had been left on the floor and a junior she knew grabbed it and threw it to a friend. Bekka finished her recitation and asked if she’d missed anything.

“No, that should do it. You’ve got a nice memory. You been doing this long?”

She sighed to herself. Please no small talk.

He leaned even closer. She slid further away, avoiding the spilled soda on the floor and putting her record book between them. Turning, she started shoving her things into her bag.

“Are you from Philly?” he asked as she packed. When she didn’t answer, he put his hand on her book. His fingers were wrinkled, the back of his hand decorated with scars.

“You look like someone I know,” he told her. “Have you lived here long?”

“Um,” she replied, letting her voice drop an octave and looking away. Come on, man. Time to go home.

Zipping up her bag, she looked at the locker room door, pointedly ignoring him. She could feel him staring at her face and tried to work up the courage to tug her book from under his hand. Hopefully, he’d take the hint.

Her eyes were drawn back to the scars. They were thick and white. Maybe he did undercover work or something. His suit looked new, although the shiny buttons were old-fashioned.

“I’ve been looking for someone,” he told her. He was close enough that she could feel his body heat. “A job. Maybe you could help me.”

“Don’t know,” she murmured, scanning what was left of the crowd. The team was in the locker room, but there were still some people. She wanted out of this conversation.

Some younger kids were running up and down the court while their parents ignored them. Maybe she could just pretend she knew them, holler a name and run over. There were also people were also standing under the net. From the back, the man looked like her social studies teacher.

A few girls walked by, but they were from the other school. Bekka thought about joining them, but by the time she made up her mind, they were already at the door.

“You seem like a smart girl and the job is really important.”

“Huh?” she managed, checking her pocket for her inhaler. It had been years since she’d needed it.

“We could meet at the diner around the corner. I can explain it all to you there.”

Totally weird, she thought. And gross if he thought she was going anywhere with him.

“I need to go. Can you move your hand? It’s on my book.”

His fingers twitched, but he didn’t take his hand away. She noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding band.

Lowering his voice, he leaned closer. So close, intimate, “I think you can help me find the person I’m looking for. There’s a big reward. Why don’t you come and let me tell you about it?”

She didn’t know what to say, her brain working overtime. There had to be people in the locker room. She started counting in her head. She knew the reporter was still waiting for her to answer. One, two…maybe one of team might come out. Three, four.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

No? She gulped a breath and pushed her hair over her shoulder.

“I need my papers back,” she said. “I have to go.” When he didn’t respond, she stood up, wishing for another two feet of height. Her jeans felt tight against her legs.

The reporter stood, his fingers clutching her record book as he took a step toward her.

Bekka’s heart fluttered. She watched his eyebrows come together, and froze, a single breath caught in her windpipe.

Someone touched her shoulder, the pressure abrupt, but light. She jerked and tried to scream. It came out as a puff of air. Recognizing Jamie, she let him push her back a step. He stepped in front of her, his other hand out for her book.

Surprise registered on the reporter’s face.

Bekka looked up at her rescuer. Jamie stood absolutely still. He was a statue, the sharp lines of his face radiating authority even as droplets of water rolled down his cheek.

Oh, thank you, she thought and tried not to jump as his bags hit the ground.

“Her book.”

Bekka glanced up at his profile, at the square set of his jaw. Maybe the reporter couldn’t tell, but Jamie was pissed.

The man’s nostrils flared. He stared at Jamie, refusing to back up or hand over her book. The silence stretched on, the reporter glaring at the basketball star. Finally, the man coughed, his free hand sliding across his jacket. “I was just speaking with her.”

The reporter tapped her book against his side in irritation. “There’s a job. I thought she might...”

Bekka took a step forward, letting her hip and head rest against Jamie’s side. He didn’t look down, but wrapped his arm around her. Thrilled, she took a moment to inhale his clean, showered scent. She saw the reporter’s eyes dart towards her and shivered. No one had ever looked at her like that.

Jamie didn’t move. He just watched the man calmly.

She found her voice. “I need my stuff back.”

The reporter opened his mouth as if to respond, but then looked abruptly at the exit. Tossing her book on the table, he stuck out his hand, “I didn’t mean any harm.”

She didn’t want to touch him.

Realizing she wasn’t going to reach out, he stalked away, his hands stuffed into his pockets. Bekka didn’t breathe until the door closed behind him. With a pang of regret, she stepped out from under Jamie’s arm.

“Holy crap!” she said.

His bangs flopped over his eyes as he glanced down at her with concern, “You ok?”

Her breath hitched again as she grabbed her book and put it away. Jamie was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and country boots. She could see his muscles through his long-sleeve. Total white-knight rescue, she thought.

“Yeah, thanks for that.”

He reached down to pick up his bags, “Elisabeth and I are gonna head home. You want to walk with us?”

Bekka smiled and pushed her hair back behind her ears. “That’d be great. I’ll grab my stuff from the locker room.”

Walking away, she tried to act natural.

It was impossible. She could feel his eyes on her. Resisting the urge to squeal, she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.

The twins had moved into her building a few weeks ago, but with school and practice, she’d only talked to them a handful of times.

After games, Wyatt usually walked her back to her apartment, but he wasn’t available tonight. So really, everything was kind of working out perfectly. Bekka pushed through the door. Passing rows of lockers, she found her things. Shrugging into her coat she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Long, dark hair, green eyes, short, yep, same Bekka. If Jamie kissed her, he’d have to bend down. She blushed and checked her pockets for her keys. It wasn’t like that was likely.

He already had a flock of pretty girls, every one of them in heels too high for the dress code, stalking him around school. An hot transfer student who didn’t talk much and appeared to be at the edge of violence-- of course he had a following.

Bekka smiled. If her grandmother wasn’t back yet, maybe she could invite him to hang out. She didn’t usually ask people over. Grams had been a teacher in Louisiana before they moved to Pennsylvania, but she didn’t work now. School tuition was expensive and there wasn’t a lot of money left for extras. They had cable and that was about it.

Whenever Wyatt hung out, he complained she didn’t have the newest game console. Not that that stopped him. He still found a hundred reasons to come over and her grandmother adored him. She felt a moment of unease. Would Wyatt be jealous if she asked Jamie over?

She shook her head. It wasn’t like he was interested in her that way. She pictured him on the couch, his arms behind his head with his huge white smile and dimples. He’d been her friend since eighth grade. Her best friend, actually.

Both guys were cute. Wyatt was friendly, open and laughing, Jamie was silent, closed and serious. Maybe she was into Jamie because he was new.

“Hey,” Elisabeth said, passing her.

Bekka grabbed her bag, hurrying after. Even in a puffy pink coat, Jamie’s sister was beautiful. She was wearing the same outdoorsman boots as her brother, except she’d strung them with florescent laces. She’d practice before the boy’s game. She wasn’t wearing any make-up, but she didn’t need it.

Catching up with the taller girl, she said, “Good game, huh?”

“Down to the last second.”

“Five in a row. This has got to be the best start in St. Lucille’s history.”

Elisabeth smiled, pulling her bag further up her shoulder, “Not much of a basketball school, huh?”

Bekka shook her head. “No, I don’t think we’ve ever really won anything important. This might be the year though.”

“Yeah, the boys did a good job tonight.”

“Your brother had an amazing game.”

Elisabeth nodded, pushing into the shower room. She smiled at Bekka, “I taught him everything he knows.”

Pools of still water lay in the lowest parts of the tiled floor and she could hear a faucet dripping. It was humid, the air filled with fruity scents of shampoo.

“Really?”

Elisabeth laughed, “No. Well, maybe. We kinda learned it together.”

“In Louisiana?” Bekka asked. She’d lived in New Orleans when she was younger and wanted to ask what town the twins lived in.

Elisabeth slammed shut one of the open locker doors. It crashed loudly, reverberating in the empty room, “Guess word gets around.”

“I didn’t mean to...”

“Nah,” Elisabeth said, waving her words away. “We’ve moved around a lot. I’ve gotten used to it. Everyone always wants to know about the new kids.”

They went through the door to the gym and Jamie joined them.

“So?” Bekka asked him, feeling bold.

Jamie’s solid gaze swung to her, “What?”

Black scuff marks marred the floor, but the janitors wouldn’t be back until tomorrow to clean up the mess.

Elisabeth punched her brother on the shoulder. “Bekka was just asking about where we’re from and complimenting me on how well I’ve taught you to play ball.”

“Ha!” Jamie laughed, turning to Bekka. “I guess my sister forgot to mention that I pretty much showed her everything she knows.” Both of the twins laughed. They had the same laugh, head thrown back, eyes closed.

Bekka couldn’t help smiling. It dropped off her face as they neared the exit, “Thanks for walking me back. You don’t think that guy’s still around, do you?”

“What guy?” Elisabeth asked, holding open the door to the sidewalk. Cold wind hit them full in the face. The twins pulled up their hoods. Bekka pulled out her rainbow hat and plopped it on her head. She knew it looked stupid, but her grandmother made it and she was going to wear it.

The school threw out tons of salt and shoveled the sidewalk daily, but it was still slippery. Jamie picked his way down the icy steps, “Some reporter was acting weird with Bekka.”

After reaching the sidewalk, Beck kicked at a snow bank, “There was this creepy guy from the paper.” She snuck a look at Elisabeth, who was staring at her in curiosity. “He wouldn’t give me back my record book and he tried to get me to go to a diner with him. Jamie made him leave.”

Elisabeth laughed again. “Sounds like Jamie. He’s good at that.” She turned to her brother, “You remember that guy who was always hanging around our place in Des Moines? The one with the binoculars?”

Jamie grunted, hidden behind his hood. As they rounded the corner, he pointed out that someone had tagged the side of the church. Bekka wasn’t particularly religious, but the white paint was wrong against the old stone. She wished people had more respect for beautiful things, not to mention the poor janitors who were going to have to power wash in the cold.

“Bekka, the guy was so weird,” Elisabeth was saying as she crossed the street, oblivious to her brother’s discomfort. “We had these trees near our place. Most of them were good climbing trees with solid lower branches. Ones you can use to pull yourself up.”

“This guy followed us back from school, hanging around the neighborhood, not going anywhere, not really doing anything. Jamie spotted him in the trees. Guy had binoculars!”

“For what?” Bekka asked, glancing behind them. The sidewalk was relatively empty. The reporter wasn’t following them.

“Really?” Elisabeth grinned. “With all these windows?”

“Oh…” Bekka breathed.

“Anyway,” Elisabeth continued, “Jamie goes out like a ninja and stalks the stalker. It was awesome! It’s about ten o’clock at night. Sky’s all cloudy. It’s dark. He sneaks up on the guy, tiptoeing quietly and...”

Jamie growled, “Oh, come on, Elisabeth! You don’t have to tell this story, do you?”

“Shut up! You were awesome!” his sister shot back. “So, anyway, Jamie sneaks up behind him and he has our broom in his hands.” Miming drawing back a baseball bat, she swings. “And WHAM, right in the backside. It was great! Guy totally fell out of the tree.”

“No way!” Bekka exclaimed, checking Jamie’s expression.

With a pang, she realized they were already on 3rd street. It wasn’t much further to their apartment. She started checking her pockets, looking for change. She was friends, well, acquaintances or whatever, with a couple of the homeless people who lived at the next corner. They had a cardboard city in the alley. She could see their small, barrel fires.

Elisabeth started stepping off the curb to jaywalk to the opposite side. When Bekka and Jamie didn’t follow, she rejoined them.

“So what happened?” Bekka asked, checking behind them again.

“After he fell out of the tree?” Elisabeth grinned. “He hurt himself. We ended up having to call an ambulance.”

“Seriously?”

Elisabeth sneered, an expression that was somehow feminine on her face. “He broke his leg. Best part was that he had to explain to the medics why he was up a tree with binoculars in the middle of the night. Pretty much a win-win for us on that one. I only wish I’d recorded it.”

“Did you find out who he was?” Bekka asked, pulling out her change. They were close now and she was looking for Alex. She’d met him a few days after moving here. He always said hello to her. She always tried to check up on him and bring him food.

People weren’t meant to live the way he lived.

She wished she could do more. She even talked to a shelter about him staying there, but when she told him about it, he refused. According to his logic, the alley was his home. She tried a few more times, but there was no point arguing.

Surveying the bumps and bulges along the wall, she spotted him by his hair. Bekka headed towards him, wondering where he’d lost his hat and whether or not her grandmother would be able to make him another one before the storm hit.

He wasn’t alone, another man sat beside him. Their lumpy shapes were huddled against the cold, old papers and cardboard covering their legs. Alex was sleeping with his mouth open. The gap in his teeth looked sad.

She eyed the rusted trash can they were using for their fire. It didn’t seem big enough or warm enough. Careful not to wake him, she dropped the change into the chest pocket of his coat.

Jamie didn’t say anything about it, although she saw him watching. Elisabeth was lost in her story. Bekka was glad. Alex was a nice person, but not exactly a great conversation starter. Her grandmother had warned her over and over again not to speak to strangers. Bekka spent a lot of time ignoring her directions. She didn’t want the twins to say anything to make her grandmother worry more.

She blushed, slipping along the sidewalk. What a ridiculous thought! It wasn’t like Jamie and her grandmother were going to have time to talk. He hadn’t even been in her apartment yet!

“We ended up having to go to court for it,” Elisabeth was saying. “It was a big deal. We had to go to the station and make a formal statement, press charges and all. Jamie was pissed because they didn’t throw him in jail, but I guess due process is due process. The guy made bail or something after the hospital. Anyway, it didn’t look good because...”

“Ok, enough story time. Didn’t you say you needed to stop at the store?”

“Oh, right,” Elisabeth replied, winking at her brother. “Thanks for remembering.” Without missing a beat, she pulled Bekka’s arm and hauled her into the convenience store.